Let Me Drown
by Wicked'elphaba-fiyero
Summary: Blaine's been open about many things. Being gay, being in love. But he's always known that if it's too hard to say, you don't say it. Ever. He's kept this secret for a long time, and he'd like to keep it that way, despite any ideas the Hummel's may have.
1. Chapter 1

**(A/N: Hi! First glee story! For people reading this from the Wicked section, hi! It feels weird posting in a different category...Oh well. KurtxBlaine are currently my favorite couple...Though I personally am not too fond of their couple name, give it time though, it'll grow on me I'm sure. Well, here goes)**

To say that he felt out of place would be an understatement. When Kurt had told him about family night, he had assumed it would just be a casual little gathering for the kids to see their parents and show them school projects—it seemed Dalton did things a bit differently than public schools.

"Dad, stop fidgeting, you look fine." Kurt batted his hands away from his collar. Looking through the sea of people at the Dalton Academy family night, Burt saw all of the tall and rich men in their impeccable suits, their stances tall and sophisticated. Next to them, their wives stood with equal elegance.

Burt had worn a light blue polo shirt and formal khaki pants, an outfit which he had thought was on the overdoing it side of formal. Boy had he been wrong. At this point, his old high school prom tux might have been a better option, baby blue frills and all.

"Why didn't you tell me there was going to be a ball afterwards?" he murmured to his son, faking smiles at all the odd looks he was getting, "I would've brought my silk hanky." Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Dad you don't own a silk handkerchief."

"Yeah I do, you know that bluish one with the-"

"Polyester, Dad." Kurt tried not to laugh. Burt frowned.

"Same thing." he grumbled. Kurt looked absolutely appalled for a moment, but then he laughed and Burt couldn't help a small smile. Ever since the move to Dalton, Kurt had been laughing and smiling a lot more and even though the school was really putting their family at odd ends with the bank, Burt knew it was worth every penny.

"Oh! Blaine!" Burt looked up as his son's voice rang in his ear. He cringed.

"Jesus Kurt, are you trying to reach someone in Alaska?" he rubbed his ear. A slight blush was the only indication his son had heard him. Looking up, Burt saw a young man a few yards away from them. He was surrounded by families and students who observed him like one might a shining trophy on display. They fawned over him, telling him how handsome he was and how impressed they were by his various academic and musical achievements. The kid worked the crowd with an easy charm and a truly humbled modesty that kept the adults smiling. Apart from a few jealous glances from the other students, it seemed like people couldn't help but smile around him.

The boy looked up at his name then and he smiled brightly as he caught sight of Kurt. Excusing himself with polite smile and apology, he smoothly weaved through the crowds making their way towards them.

"Kurt!" he exclaimed. Kurt beamed and pulled Blaine in for a hug.

"I've been looking for you." Kurt scolded, playfully elbowing Blaine in the side.

"I know," Blaine laughed, "All of these tall people make it hard." Kurt giggled. He himself was about average height, but Blaine was small; about an inch or two shorter than Kurt. However, he more than made up for it with a presence that Kurt had always thought of as larger than life. Not to mention he was extremely handsome.

"Hey, it's the shorties that rule the world, right?"

"You know it." Blaine laughed and winked at him. Standing to the side, but still there, Burt was able to use his acclaimed skills of deductive reasoning to figure out that this must be Kurt's boyfriend who he'd talked about nonstop everyday when he came home.

Looking at Blaine, Burt couldn't deny being a little surprised. Of course Kurt had always gushed about how handsome and wonderful his boyfriend was, but looking at the kid, it was like he just walked out of an old black and white movie – that debonair hair, the refined stance and intoxicating charisma – Gee, Kurt wasn't kidding.

"Have I ever told you how unbelievably cute you are?" Kurt's giggled reply brought Burt back to attention.

"Oh you haven't seen that half of it, Kurt Hummel." Blaine kissed Kurt on the cheek with a grin as Kurt turned a light shade of pink. Both of the boys seemed unaware of Burt's presence as they flirted and he finally cleared his throat to get their attention.

"Oh!" Blaine startled, looking behind Kurt at his father, "I'm so sorry, we've been terribly rude," he glanced briefly at Kurt, his gaze admonishing, "You must be Mr. Hummel." he reached a hand forward to shake, "I'm Blaine Anderson, it's a pleasure to meet you, sir." Burt shook his hand firmly. Blaine's voice was smooth and his genuine embarrassment at forgetting his manners made Burt feel like he was meeting Mary Poppins' long lost son or something. What kind of kid talked like that? Burt had never met a kid who hadn't greeted him with a simple 'hey, what's up'.

"Nice to meet you Blaine, I'm Burt, Kurt's Dad." Burt said, "He's told me a lot about you." his son beamed, glad the two were finally meeting.

"Likewise sir," Blaine smiled.

"Dad, Blaine is the lead singer of the Warblers." Kurt said excitedly.

"I know son, you've told me." Burt laughed. Gosh, Kurt had only told him two million times.

"Yes, we'll be performing a number later tonight if you stick around." Blaine offered.

"Oh yeah? Carole will be jealous," Burt said, "she's been waiting to hear Kurt's new glee club. She would've been here tonight, but Finn had a football game."

"Carole, your wife, and Finn your stepson?" Blaine said for clarification, glancing at Kurt and Burt had the impression Kurt had schooled him on what he should know when they met. The thought made him chuckle. Knowing Kurt, he'd probably made flashcards.

"Yep," Burt nodded, "So uh, are your parents here too?" For a second it was like that oozing charm disappeared, replaced with unease and anxiety, but Burt blinked and the boy was giving him a polite smile as he shook his head in the negative.

"My mother and father are divorced, she lives in California now." Blaine explained, his voice was light despite how heavy that sentence could have sounded, "My father might be able to make it, though I think he's pretty tied up at work."

"I've never met him, does he look like you?" Kurt asked eagerly. Blaine chuckled though Burt thought he saw a grimace for a second.

"Some people think so." he shrugged, "He's way taller." he added noticing Kurt was expecting more.

"You must get your height from your mom then, because-" Kurt was suddenly cut off as Blaine put a gentle finger to his lips, his face suddenly only a breath away.

"Hey," he said quietly, "You _know _how sensitive I am about my height." he grinned as Kurt blushed and leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek. Blaine smiled at him fondly, reaching up tenderly to brush his hand through Kurt's hair. Upon noticing Burt again however, he quickly removed his hand and straightened up. He offered Burt a small apologetic smile.

Burt narrowed his eyes as he crossed his arms. Kurt rolled his eyes at his father's reaction, but gave him a smile before turning back around and hooking his arm under Blaine's. Burt scoffed, glancing skyward, whoever gave those two licenses to flirt should immediately revoke such privilege! At this rate they'd be engaged by morning!

Burt rolled his eyes as he realized the two were whispering to each other. Blaine nodded to something Kurt said and unhooking his arm from Kurt's he walked to the center of the room.

"Everyone, if I could have your attention, the Dalton Academy Warblers would like to welcome everyone tonight with a song." Blaine motioned for the members around the room to come join him. Kurt nudged his dad with an excited smile before hurrying over to the other Warblers.

A small space was soon cleared in the center of the room for the Warblers to perform. The crowd stood in a respectful circle around them as they got into position. They all looked down as the song started, looking up as each entered the song. Kurt looked up, doing 'boops and ahhs" with the rest. He beamed at his Dad and Burt grinned back, so proud of his son, so happy for him, even though all he was doing was oohs and ahhs. And then Blaine looked up and the song burst to life.

_There ain't no reason you and me should be alone_

_Tonight, yeah baby, tonight, yeah baby_

_I got a reason that you-hoo should take me home tonight_

_I need a man who thinks it's right when it's so wrong_

_Tonight, yeah baby, tonight, yeah baby_

_Right on the limit's where we know we both belong tonight…_

Burt was impressed by the sheer confidence and talent Blaine had. He sang clear and from the heart without holding anything back. He moved around easily, naturally, he danced and loaded his voice with emotion, he truly _performed. _It was probably this very moment that Burt decided he liked Blaine, that he was good for his son because as he watched the Warblers he could tell that Blaine's confidence had rubbed off on Kurt. Blaine was so confident and sure of himself and being gay didn't handicap him in anyway, it didn't steal him moments or hold him back. Watching Kurt perform, Burt realized that Blaine's confidence had been rubbing off on him; he hadn't seen his son so…free in a long time.

_I'm on the edge of glory! _

_And I'm hanging on a moment of truth _

_I'm on the edge of glory_

_And I'm hanging on a moment with you_

Suddenly Blaine faltered and that confidence vanished like a drop of water in the desert. Burt's brow furrowed as he saw the teen's brown eyes pool in surprise and anxiety. He followed their direction to the back of the room where he saw a tall and slim man slipping inside, he had Blaine's black curly hair and similar bone features, he was dressed in a suit that Burt was sure had cost more than his entire house. Burt turned back to Blaine and was surprised to see his confidence back full force; it was like nothing had ever happened. The song ended then and the parents rushed forward to congratulate their children and compliment Blaine. Burt chuckled and moved forward to find Kurt.

"Dad!" Kurt flung his arms around his father's neck in a quick hug.

"Kurt you sounded great! That was amazing, I'm very proud of you, son." Burt smiled and squeezed Kurt's shoulder.

"Thanks, Dad." Kurt beamed, "Blaine was great, wasn't he?"

"Not as good as you." Burt said dutifully. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Dad, as much as I appreciate your obligatory parental comments, I think we both know when there just simply isn't a point. Blaine is amazing." Kurt's eyes sparkled and he stood on tiptoe trying to look through the crowd for Blaine.

"You're right, the kid's got talent." Burt chuckled; he could definitely understand his son's infatuation.

"C'mon, let's go find him!" Kurt grabbed his hand and they tried to weave their way through the crowded room but it was difficult and they weren't having any luck finding Blaine.

* * *

><p>Blaine bowed as the song ended, flashing a huge smile to the crowd as they applauded the Warblers. As the parents surged forward, Blaine's eyes flicked to the back of the room where his father stood calm, his hands crossed in front of him as he nodded at Blaine. Blaine's thousand watt smile dwindled as he took a deep breath, he tried to be quick weaving through the crowd and eventually he was standing in front of his father.<p>

"Er…y-you came." he stammered, not knowing what to say, "I didn't think you would show up." Blaine knew that his father had gotten back from New York two days ago, but he definitely hadn't expected him to make an appearance at his school.

"Why wouldn't I?" his father asked, looking down at him with a raised eyebrow. Blaine swallowed – he hated when his father did that-asked him questions that never had a safe answer, but he was expecting to answer anyway.

"Be…ah..because…" Blaine suddenly felt cornered—a feeling his father had always been very adept at inflicting upon him, "Well…you never come."

"If I can recall correctly, the only school events you invite me to are those waste of time Warbler concerts. Had I known your ridiculous group was performing tonight, I would have stayed home I assure you." Blaine flinched at his father's glare and his gaze flickered to the floor. His father had never seen the Warblers until tonight, Blaine had hoped that when he did, he would understand that they were good and _not _a waste of time, but as always, his father let him down.

"The Warblers are not a waste of time, Dad." Blaine spoke to his shoes, "I like being in the Warblers." he added, as though his preferences mattered.

"Your fondness of the club doesn't make it any more time worthy then should you hate it. It's a waste of time and always will be. You should be focusing on your grades, Blaine." Blaine was one of Dalton Academy's best students and he'd gotten one of the top three ACT scores that year…he didn't need to focus more on academics. Blaine wasn't an idiot, his father meant he needed to focus more on girls. Blaine's fists clenched at his side and he looked up at his dad.

"I got a 32 on the ACT." he informed his father angrily.

"You could have done better than that."

"It's one of the top scores at this school."

"That's hardly impressive when your only competition is mindless nobody's who waste their time learning pop songs and dance routines."

Blaine's jaw tightened and he glared up at his father, "Those nobody's are my friends and that's not what the Warblers are about at all. The Warblers isn't just for anybody, it's for people with talent. Those guys are all very talented—not to use those talents would be a waste."

"Perhaps I should have left you at Southwest High School—you might've learned something there. It seems you're only encouraged here-"

"I'm not saying these things because I've got gay crushes on them!" Blaine hissed angrily, his nails digging into the palms of his hands, "I'm gay, so I immediately fall for every guy alive? That's not how it works, Dad! I don't like the Warblers because they're guys, I like them because they're great people with amazing talent, so you can shut up—you don't know what the hell you're talking about."

"You keep your voice down Blaine Anderson." his father's hand came down and clenched painfully around his upper arm in an iron hold, shaking him. Blaine flinched and his father glared at him, "And you remember just exactly who you're speaking to." Richard Anderson, Blaine told himself, he was speaking to Richard Anderson, his father- what had gotten into him?

"Dad let go-" Blaine's panicked eyes flickered around the room full of parents and students. His father's eyes followed his gaze and he swiftly released Blaine's arm, straightening up immediately. Blaine rubbed his bruised arm warily.

"Come on then, we're leaving." Blaine looked up.

"Can I say goodbye to a few people?" he asked.

"You'll see them on Monday."

"But I told him-" Blaine backtracked, "—_them_," he quickly amended, there was no way his father could know about Kurt, "that I'd say goodbye before I left, they'll wonder where I'd gone."

"Hurry up about it."

Blaine nodded before quickly darting away from his father. He found Wes and David first, standing by the punch bowl, looking entirely too pleased with themselves to be safe.

"Looking forward to seeing Ohio's elite lose their minds?" Blaine asked.

"Mrs. Bristol's already had eight glasses." Wes grinned.

"Your mom's had three." David pointed out, "And isn't she the one driving you home?"

"Oh shit…" Wes' smile faded as he glanced at the punch bowl and his mother. He crossed his arms then, "Well I saw your mom down four glasses." he told David matter-of-factly. David shrugged.

"Mom takes a taxi everywhere, plus I'm staying at Dalton for the weekend, woman can drink as much as she damn pleases."

Blaine laughed.

"I was just coming to say goodbye, my father's taking me home now." he explained. Wes and David shared raised eyebrows.

"What, no company car?" they asked. Blaine's father _never _showed up for anything.

"He got off work early today."

"Are you going to be okay?" David asked, his gaze searching the crowd for the tall man he'd seen only occasionally since meeting Blaine. Blaine looked nervous for a second, before pulling a curious smile.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"It's just that…"

"The storm isn't until tomorrow David, I'll be fine." Blaine cut him off tactfully averting to the weather, "I'll see you two on Monday." he told them before quickly turning away.

"Wait, Blaine!" Wes grabbed his arm and Blaine hid a grimace at the pressure on his new bruise. Wes paused.

"What is it?" Blaine asked patiently, though he desperately just wanted to find Kurt and leave, knowing his father didn't like to be kept waiting.

"Just call us if—if the storm hits harder than expected." Wes finally said, looking Blaine in the eye. In the past few years he'd known Blaine, he'd only caught occasional signs and short snippets about his father. From those few moments he knew that Richard Anderson travelled a lot with his company. When he was home, a couple weekends a month or sometimes a couple days during breaks, a company car would pick Blaine up to go live at his house with his father until his father's next business trip.

There'd only been one time that Blaine had lived at home for more than a week or so and certain things had happened and changed during those weeks that had left Wes and David more than a little concerned. But Blaine had gone back to normal when his father left again. The three friends never addressed what had happened, no matter how much Wes knew they needed to. It seemed too late now.

"Don't worry about anything, Wes." Blaine smiled lightly and shrugged off his concerns, "Make sure your mom's sober before you let her drive you home." he laughed, "See you guys Monday." he waved before quickly darting away from his two anxious friends. He glanced at his father who was glaring at him, tapping his watch. Blaine swallowed—knowing how much his father hated to be kept waiting.

"Kurt!" he cried desperately, not having the time to search for the boy.

"Blaine!" he heard Kurt behind him and he whirled around to see Kurt and his father coming towards him. Blaine barely suppressed a sigh of relief.

"Kurt." he sighed, "Great job with the Warblers." he smiled.

"You sounded great too Blaine." Kurt smiled.

"Yeah, kid, you've got a real talent, I'm impressed." Burt admitted. Blaine felt the flutter of a smile on his lips.

"Thank you, sir, that's very kind of you to say." he replied politely as his eyes darted back to his father's impatient face.

"Yeah, I was just telling Kurt…" Burt was talking and Blaine was trying so hard to listen, but the overwhelming feeling of limited time was pressing in on him. He needed to leave now. As Blaine rapidly ran through various ways in which to politely end the conversation and say goodbye, he felt a warm pressure in his hand and his eyes snapped to where Kurt had subtly reached out to grab his hand. Blaine snatched his hand away like it'd been burnt.

"Blaine…?" Kurt looked up at him with startled and hurt eyes. His voice was so soft and Burt didn't hear as he continued talking. Blaine ignored Kurt, eyes frantically seeking out his father who seemed to have been cornered into a conversation with his principal. Blaine relaxed with a quiet sigh and he gently reached out for Kurt's hand.

"Sorry." he murmured, the apology in his eyes melted and concerned Kurt, but he didn't say anything about it as he grasped tightly to the hand in his. He tried to catch Blaine's eye, but he seemed totally focused on Burt.

"…I've only been to a few of Finn's football games so far, I don't suppose you like football?"

"Oh no, I love it. I'm not a player, but I'd love to go to some of Finn's games." Blaine said. Burt's brow rose in surprise.

"Oh really? That'd be nice, you and Kurt should come to some."

"I look forward to it." Blaine smiled, "In fact…" suddenly Blaine felt eyes on him and his gaze flickered to his father, finished talking to his principal and now openly glaring at him to hurry up. Blaine redirected his sentence, "…in fact I've just realized that I need to get going. I'm actually spending the weekend at home. It was great meeting you Burt." he shook Burt's hand. As he turned to Kurt, Kurt leaned forward to give him a kiss on the cheek goodbye.

"Don't!" Blaine jerked backwards, tripping slightly and his panicked eyes found his father's enraged ones. He swallowed thickly and looked back at Kurt, his expression hurt and Blaine felt like the biggest jerk in the world as he saw the moisture in Kurt's eyes. He took another step back, his shaking legs twisting and he tripped again. Burt's hand shot out to grab his arm before he could fall.

"Whoa, okay, there son?" he asked. Blaine jerked his arm out of his grasp on instinct before realizing his mistake and straightened up shakily. He was losing control, he wasn't thinking properly, all of his trained reactions were wrong, he wasn't being normal, he needed to get back on track, he need to say something, he—

"I..I-" his throat was dry and he suddenly had the overwhelming sensation that all of his secrets were being strewn out for everyone to see.

"Blaine, what's wrong?" Kurt's voice sounded panicked as it came to him through a long tunnel. It wasn't until he felt a strong grip on his shoulder that he was brought back to reality. He looked up into his father's face.

"Alright, there Blaine?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm fine." he said automatically. He straightened up as his breathing returned in even breaths. He looked into the anxious faces of Burt and Kurt, he saw David and Wes out of the corner of his eye, watching concernedly. Blaine quickly fell back into the correct posture as he graciously apologized for his behavior.

"I just remembered how much homework I still have to do." he explained, "Ask anyone, I get a little crazy about school work sometimes." he offered an apologetic smile.

"Well take it easy, kid." Burt chuckled uneasily, glancing at him in concern.

"I'll remember that Mr. Hummel." he smiled, "Kurt, I'll see you Monday, I'll call you or something." he dropped a hand on Kurt's shoulder quickly before turning quickly and following his father outside.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: I know this kind of theme/plot is really popular right now, but it's really interesting because Blaine's so perfect on the show and I wanted to give a Klaine fic a go. Thank you for reading!)**


	2. Chapter 2

**(A/N: New update! And I think it's time that Glee introduces Blaine's family, or at least his father, it would be interesting. And the last episode with him and Kurt? Oh klaine lol.)**

With a loud bang, the front door was slammed open and Blaine was pitched forward into the house, falling to the floor roughly. Not wasting time to think about the pain in his shoulder he clambered back to his feet as his father stormed into the house.

"Dad, I-"

"Do you care to explain to me who this _fag _is that thinks he has the right to kiss you?" his father yelled at him as he pushed him into the wall.

"He—he's not a-" Blaine swallowed as he tried to defend Kurt. He was shaking all over.

"Bullshit!" Richard shoved Blaine into the hall table against the wall and the table clattered to the floor.

"He was just saying goodbye, Dad!" Blaine scrambled behind the table and shakily pulled it back up, putting it between his father and himself, "That's just how he is, I didn't ask him to do it! Please just…just calm down, okay?" Blaine's hands gripped the table, his knuckles white as the rest of his body shook uncontrollably. His father stared at him for a long, still moment, his heavy breathing slowly returning to normal as he calmed down.

"Oh God damn it, Blaine." Richard sighed, closing his eyes wearily, scrubbing a hand down his face. He sighed again, "Alright, Blaine, you listen to me now." Blaine's eyes widened as his father addressed him and he backed as far away from him as he could, his back pressing into the opposite wall. Richard let out a long frustrated and impatient breath and he closed the distance Blaine had just created, "Are you listening, Blaine?" he asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

"Y-yes, I'm listening." Blaine finally said.

"You are to stay away from that boy." Richard said evenly, "If I see you with him ever again, you're going to regret it, understand?"

"Yes, I understand." Blaine said. His father couldn't stop him from seeing Kurt, no matter how much he threatened him. Besides, how would he ever find out? It wasn't like he was ever home long enough to notice who he hung out with.

"Good." Richard said simply, "Now I'm going to go to my study to do some paperwork. When I come back downstairs, I want dinner ready."

"Yes, sir." Blaine nodded. One last calculating stare and Richard left swiftly, leaving Blaine alone finally. Blaine shakily pushed himself off the wall, gripping his arms tightly as he tried to stop the shaking. But as the minutes wore on and the shaking didn't stop, Blaine realized just how much he'd forgotten what it was like, living at home. His father had been gone for a while, but how could he have forgotten what it was like?

"Holy shit…" he murmured as he let go of himself to stare at his quivering hands. He clasped them together tightly, squeezing his eyes shut. His father hadn't even hit him yet, and he was freaking out. This was nothing, a few pushes here and there, but this had been nothing. The thought that his father could and had done so much worse sparked another flame of panic, "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…" he could feel his whole body shaking now and he sank to the floor, his legs rendered useless. A soft buzzing alerted him to a text message and he slowly pulled his phone out of his pocket.

From: Kurt

Blaine, are you ok? You seemed really freaked out tonight.

The text sent Blaine's heart racing, just like all of Kurt's texts and slowly, his body stopped shaking. His head cleared and he straightened up before texting a reply.

From: Blaine

Im really sorry about that. Im fine, dont worry

That's right. He was fine. He _had _to be fine. He'd been fine before. It was easy to be fine. Kurt couldn't be exposed to this kind of thing. He had a _great_ dad, who loved him more than anything. His dad didn't give a shit about his sexual orientation. His dad was supportive. Kurt was lucky. Despite what he'd gone through at school, Kurt was so naïve. He had no idea just how bad gay bashing could get. Kurt didn't have a clue just how screwed up his boyfriend was. Blaine remembered when he'd first met Kurt, how scared he'd been of that dipshit, Karofsky. Blaine had helped him and intentional or not, he'd become Kurt's _man_, his guy to lean on, the strong one. And damn it, Blaine _was _the strong one, and he was going to stay that way, for _Kurt_.

From: Kurt

Blaine, you were acting really strange. Are you sure youre ok?

From: Blaine

Kurt, I promise Im fine. I was just nervous meeting your dad. Did he like family night?

Before Blaine could read the reply, he remembered that he was supposed to be preparing dinner. Cursing, he ran into the kitchen, quickly setting some water on the stove to boil.

* * *

><p>Kurt glanced back down at the message Blaine had sent him. Maybe Blaine really was fine and Kurt was just overreacting. Maybe he really had been nervous about meeting his dad. But Blaine wasn't the type to get nervous, about <em>anything<em>.

"Texting Blaine?"

Kurt looked up from his phone at his dad. They were in the car now, heading home.

"Yeah."

"He seems like a really nice kid, a little jumpy though." Burt said, making a left turn.

"He is nice Dad, but he's not jumpy." Kurt said, "He said he was nervous about meeting you. But Blaine doesn't get nervous about anything…" there was a moment of silence as Kurt drifted off, texting something to Blaine. Burt glanced at the cell phone. He cleared his throat.

"So uh…is Blaine's Dad always so…tense?" Burt asked. Kurt shrugged.

"I don't know, I've never met him. I think he was in a hurry, Blaine says he has an important job."

"He the CEO of something?"

"Yeah, something like that…" Kurt murmured, looking out of the car window. A few more moments of silence passed as Kurt alternated between texting and staring out the window. Burt shifted uneasily. Kurt always had _something _to say.

"Maybe you should invite Blaine over for dinner sometime." he said. Kurt finally turned to look at him and he smiled.

"That's a great idea, Dad!" he said enthusiastically.

"I was just thinking, Finn has Rachel over all the time." Burt said, glad he'd drawn Kurt back into conversation, "I just want you to know that Blaine is always welcome too."

"Thanks Dad," Kurt beamed, "I'm sure he'll love to come over."

* * *

><p>Blaine was just turning the stove off when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned around.<p>

"Dinner's just about ready."

"It should be on the table by now, Blaine."

"I know, I'm sorry sir." Blaine turned back around and reached into the cupboard, pulling out two bowls. He was just filling the second one with pasta when he heard his father clear his throat loudly behind him. Blaine turned around.

"Do you really think you deserve to eat tonight, Blaine?" Richard asked, crossing his arms. Blaine's jaw slackened and his arms felt like jelly.

"Dad…I—I…"

"Well? Do you think you deserve a meal tonight, Blaine?" Richard prodded, taking a dangerous step closer. Blaine flinched and tried not to back away.

"No, sir." he finally said, "I don't."

"Go to your room, then." Richard brushed past Blaine, knocking into him. Blaine threw his hands out to catch himself, his left hand falling directly on the still searing stove.

"Ah!" Blaine hissed in pain, yanking his hand back. His father paused and turned to look at him.

"Something wrong Blaine?" he asked, his eyes drifting directly to Blaine's burnt hand.

"No, sir." Blaine managed to say as he tried to apply pressure to the burn, "I'll just go to my room." he left and ran up to his room. He shot through to the adjoining bathroom, yanking on the cold water and putting his hand beneath the tap. His hand had started to bleed and he winced as the water stung the wound.

"Fuck." Blaine cursed as he washed off his hand. He felt his phone vibrating in his pocket and he fished it out with his dry hand, "Hello?"

"Blaine, it's Kurt."

Blaine swallowed, "Kurt." he stared down at his burned hand, wondering if there was anyway Kurt could tell, if he could see, if he could hear it through his voice.

"Is now a bad time?"

Blaine glanced again at his hand, his eyes flickered to his door. He took the phone from his ear and listened. He could hear his father downstairs eating, watching CNN as he ate. He'd probably be done soon. It was a terrible time.

Blaine put the phone back to his ear, "No, now is fine."

"I just wanted to call you, we didn't really get a proper goodbye at family night tonight."

"Oh Kurt," Blaine sighed, "I'm so sorry about the way I acted tonight. It was terrible. Forgive me?"

"Of course, Blaine. Are you sure nothing was wrong?"

"Nothing was wrong, I was just caught in a bout of inexplicable panic over school stuff." Blaine gently turned off the water and began to wrap his hand, his cell phone balanced between his ear and shoulder.

"Speaking of school, you were great tonight with the Warblers."

"Thank you Kurt. You were great yourself." Blaine smiled.

"Did your dad like it?"

Blaine's smile faded and he remembered he'd forgotten to use disinfectant on the burn that had bled. He unwrapped his hand, "Shit." he threw the wrapping tape across the bathroom in frustration.

"Blaine?"

Blaine dropped the phone on the sink as he yanked open the cabinet and grabbed the disinfectant. He unscrewed the cap before realizing the tube was completely empty. He ran his hand through the bathroom cabinet and found nothing but a bottle of disinfecting alcohol. He remembered the last time he'd let a wound go untreated. He grabbed the bottle and put his hand over the sink. He closed his eyes before pouring the alcohol on the open wound.

"Fuck!" He cursed loudly at the pain. He reached across the room for the wrapping tape he'd thrown and began to hurriedly wrap his hand again, fighting the urge to scream.

He remembered his phone. Scrambling back towards the sink, he grabbed his phone and jammed it to his ear.

"-Blaine, are you still there?"

"Sorry Kurt, I dropped my phone down the stairs, genius, right?"

Kurt laughed, "You're such a dork. So what did your dad think about the Warblers?"

"He," _hated_ _it_, "loved it."

"Great." he could hear Kurt smiling again, "My dad liked us too. In fact, he was so impressed by you Mr. Blaine Anderson, that he has extended an invitation for you to dine with the Hummel's for dinner!"

"Really? Oh Kurt, there's nothing else I'd rather do than to have dinner with you and your family." Blaine smiled, "Is this going to be a coat and tie event?"

"The Hummel house is actually _quite_ grandiose." Kurt giggled. Blaine grinned.

"I see. Only the best for my Kurt."

"If I'm your Kurt, does that make you my Blaine?"

"I should certainly hope so." Blaine laughed.

"Just when I thought I couldn't get any happier." Kurt sighed happily. Blaine was about to reply when he heard footsteps on the stairs. He quickly placed everything back in the cabinet.

"Happiness is good for the skin, keeps you looking young till you're 57." Blaine said, "However sleep is also part of that youthful glow and if you want to continue having an average looking boyfriend, he needs his sleep."

"Average? Blaine, you know you're gorgeous."

"Just wanted to hear you say it." Blaine grinned, "Goodnight?"

"Goodnight Blaine, sleep tight." Kurt said. Blaine hung up the phone just as his father walked in.

"Who was that?" he asked.

"It was just someone from school." Blaine said.

"I see." his father stared at him a moment, calculatingly. He glanced down at Blaine's bandaged hand, "Well, what happened there Blaine?" Blaine followed his father's gaze.

"I uh…I was fooling around on the stove and burnt myself by accident." Blaine swallowed thickly. Richard nodded.

"I thought so." Richard said, "Before you go to sleep go downstairs and do the dishes."

"Yes sir." Blaine nodded. He watched his dad finally leave his room before trudging downstairs to clean up.


	3. Chapter 3

**(A/N: Thank you readers! It took a while, but here it is, chapter three. I'm excited for a new glee coming up!)**

"Oh my god, Blaine, what happened to your hand?" Kurt's fingers grazed lightly over the bandage on Blaine's hand.

"I was cooking last night and I burnt it on the stove." Blaine said, his eyes travelling slowly towards the wound. He winced, remembering the pain. Kurt noticed.

"Does it still hurt?" Kurt's hand was laid gently on Blaine's wrist, keeping his hand on the table.

"A little bit." Blaine just wanted to shove his hand in his pocket, or at least under the table! He felt like Kurt could see everything that had happened, had _ever _happened just by seeing the bandage.

"You need to be more careful." Kurt admonished, his thumb rubbing gently over the bandage again. Blaine's skin began to prickle and he'd never wanted Kurt to let go him in his entire life. He felt like his hand was chained to the table, but the only thing keeping it there was Kurt's feather light touch.

"I know Kurt, it was my fault." he said, "I was being careless."

Kurt frowned and he looked up from Blaine's hand to his face, "It was just an accident Blaine…I'm not _mad_ or anything…"

"Oh! I-I know that!" Blaine jumped slightly. He felt like thumping his head into a wall, he wasn't being the Blaine Kurt was used to. He cleared his throat, "I just—I'm a little embarrassed. I actually burned my hand because I turned the stove off and leaned on it, I totally forgot it was still hot."

"Blaine! That's it; you're staying away from any appliances that are able to generate enough heat to harm!" Kurt laughed, the hand on Blaine's finally retreating to lift the Lima Bean coffee to Kurt's lips. Blaine subtly pulled his hand under the table, heaving a sigh of relief.

"I'm actually a very good cook though Kurt! And it's never happened before, Project Runway was on the TV and I totally spaced." Blaine laughed.

"Oh god Blaine," Kurt put a hand on his heart, "I was worried, but now I know you have a valid excuse!"

"Tim Gunn _needs _his own TV show, I'd watch it religiously." Blaine laughed.

"Just not while cooking." Kurt said, "And speaking of cooking…" the corner's of Kurt's lips curled in a sly smile as he looked up at Blaine shyly, "…I plan on cooking a beautiful meal for dinner at the Hummel house with Blaine Anderson and I want to know what you like."

"Kurt, anything you make, you can bet I'll eat." Blaine tugged a little on Kurt's tie and Kurt leaned forward as they kissed shortly. Kurt licked his lips.

"I don't want to make something you'll hate though!" he protested. Blaine smiled.

"Kurt, I honestly will love anything you make." he said.

"But-"

"All I'll say is that I don't like tofu." Blaine burst into laughter at Kurt's flabbergasted expression.

"Really Blaine?" he diva flopped his hand on the table, "Really? That's the only specificity you're going to give me?"

"Kurt, anything is fine, I swear!"

"Except _tofu_?" Kurt squinted his eyes at him, "You know I might just make something you'll be fighting to spit out the whole evening. Like…liverwurst pot pies."

"Liverwurst from my Kurt though? Delicious." Blaine grinned as Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Blaiiinneee." he whined.

"Surprise me Kurt!" Blaine shrugged, smiling, "Cook whatever you like. Now when is this grand dinner and what on _earth_ should I wear?"

"Wednesday night, come over at 6:30, wear anything but the uniform." Kurt gently smoothed a wrinkle in Blaine's blazer. Blaine rolled his eyes.

"Anything but the blazer? That's the only specificity you're going to give me?"

"Blaine, you'll look amazing in anything, you know that!"

"Kuuuurrrttt!"

* * *

><p>"Blaine!"<p>

Blaine turned around upon hearing his name called and he saw his principal waving to him from the end of the hall from his open office door. Blaine smiled, he'd always like Principal Davis. He was heading towards his office when he saw another man exit the office. Blaine's smile faded and he stopped abruptly, a student behind him ramming into him.

"A little heads up would've been nice Blaine!" said Jeffrey, laughing as he leaned down to pick up his books. Blaine quickly dropped to the floor to help Jeffrey.

"Sorry Jeff." Blaine muttered as he helped the other boy collect his things. They both stood and Jeffrey hurried away to his next class. Blaine slowly turned around, coming face to face with his father.

"D-dad!" he stammered, "What are you doing here?"

"I've decided I'll be staying for a while and I was just changing your boarding status to commuting status." Richard said coolly, he smiled down at him and Blaine knew it was for the sake of Mr. Davis that he did so. Blaine felt like he'd just been sentenced to death.

"F-for how long-"

"The remainder of the year Blaine." Richard said, smiling again. Blaine suddenly felt dizzy and all he wanted to do was run to his dorm and bury himself beneath the covers. But then again, his father was taking that away from him, wasn't he. Blaine lost focus on his father and principal standing before him for a moment and he swayed on his feet.

"So I'll be living…"

"At home with me."

"Oh." Blaine was quiet as the news settled in on him. He'd be living with his dad the remainder of the year…and the year wasn't even half over. He hadn't lived with his dad that long since switching to Dalton. How on earth was he going to survive? He could just kill himself now, honestly… He felt a weight on his shoulder and he looked up to see his father speaking to Mr. Davis, his dad's fingers digging into his shoulder.

"The boys will miss you in Brisco Hall, but I'm sure they'll be happy for you that you get to spend some time at home." Mr. Davis said cheerfully, "You have your key right, Blaine? Why don't you show your father to your dorm, he's going to help you move your things out, you've been excused from the rest of your classes for the day." Mr. Davis patted him on the shoulder with another smile before heading back down the hall to his office. Blaine stared after him, feeling like he'd been flung into a pool of sharks. Totally on instinct, his foot lurched forward a step, as though to run after Mr. Davis and beg him to let him stay, but the heavy hand on his shoulder whirled him around and Blaine was staring up into his father's face.

"D-dad, I can really just stay in the dorms here—I can –I don't have to move back home, really-"

"That's enough Blaine." Richard said coolly, "Show me to your dorm, I don't have all day."

"I can pack on my own-" Blaine tried desperately.

"Goddamn it Blaine, shut up and just do as you're told!" his father's hands were shaking and Blaine knew it was only for the sake of the few distant students passing in the halls that his father didn't hit him.

"S-sorry-" his apology was cut short as his father shoved him roughly to get going. He tripped over his own feet and barely managed to stay standing as he tripped forward. Swallowing hard he began to hurriedly walk towards Brisco Hall where the junior dorms were, fighting the urge to break into a sprint.

Brisco Hall was eerily quiet and deserted when they arrived, as all of the students who lived there were in classes. Blaine led his father up a spiral staircase to the second landing and down a hall where his room was. His father had paid early on for him to have his own, single dorm—because a roommate would encourage gay thoughts.

As they walked, Blaine breathed in slowly, trying to calm down, remembering to stay cool, don't panic, even though being alone with his father was one of the scariest things Blaine could think of. He was proud of himself when his hands stopped shaking and he was able to say, "This is my dorm" without a pathetic quiver in his voice. He opened the door and his father followed him in.

"I'll just get my bag from the closet." Blaine muttered, setting his key down on the bedside table. His dad walked over to his desk and started to pile things in a box. Blaine retrieved his bag and started packing his clothes from the closet. The two worked silently and for a moment, Blaine liked it. Suddenly he didn't feel like the gay son whose father hated him, but just the son whose father was helping him pack up his dorm.

"Blaine."

Blaine turned around, a little upset the peace had been broken. His father thrust a pile of DVDs and CDs into his hands. Richard brushed his hands off, as though the aforementioned items had been covered in filth.

"Um…thanks." Blaine turned to put them in his bag.

"Go throw those away." Blaine paused.

"E-excuse me?"

"Throw those away." Richard repeated. Blaine took a moment to sift through the pile, they were various musicals and Disney films.

"These are mine, I'm not going to throw them away." Blaine said, frowning.

"I didn't ask you, I told you to trash them." Richard reiterated warningly, "I don't want that gay shit in my house."

"No, Dad." Blaine glared at him, "I'm not going to." Richard lurched forward and snatched the DVDs out of Blaine's hand. Blaine immediately reached to take them back but was thrown into his desk, his lower back hitting the sharp corner hard. He cried out in pain as he fell forward, catching himself on his bed post, the breath knocked out of him momentarily.

"You're really going to fight me over these fag DVDs?" his father yelled at him. Blaine's eyes were pinched shut though as he pressed his hand into the spot on his back, trying to block out his father. He was slowly beginning to shake again and he wished his father would just let him keep his eyes shut, just leave him alone.

"I'm s-sorry." Blaine managed to say as he slowly got his breath back.

"Fucking stupid." his father murmured and he heard his dad toss the DVDs into the trash. Blaine slowly opened his eyes and turned back around, his father glaring at him, his favorite movies lying in the trash. It wasn't worth it though, Blaine decided. He watched his Dad go through his other movies and books, tossing whatever he didn't like into the trash. Blaine sat on his bed numbly; feeling like Harry as he watched his Uncles toss his Hogwarts letters into the fire.

The quiet room was interrupted by a soft knock on the door. Blaine and Richard both looked at the closed door. Blaine looked back at his father, his eyes asking permission. Richard only nodded and Blaine got up to answer the door.

"Blaine!" _No. _Blaine froze, _Anyone but him. Please Kurt, just go away, please…_Blaine's hand clenched on the doorknob. There was no way he could open that door, Kurt had to leave, now! If Blaine opened the door his dad would see Kurt, what if Kurt tried to kiss him? What the fuck would his dad do then? _Kurt please, just go away, go away, please…_

Blaine jumped when he felt a hand on his and his dad was glaring down at him as he clenched his hand around the doorknob on top of Blaine's hand. It hurt like hell as his father jammed his hand into the brass knob and forcefully turned it to open the door. A sharp elbow in the chest moved Blaine out of the way, he stumbled backwards, eyes wide as they followed the door as it was swung open.

"Blai—Oh! Mr. Anderson!" Blaine shook himself out of his daze and he shot in front of his father, standing between Richard and Kurt.

"Kurt, how can I help you?" Blaine asked politely. Kurt seemed stunned for a moment, his eyes flickering between his anxious boyfriend and the overwhelmingly intimidating presence that was his father.

"I heard you were moving back home, I was wondering if you needed help." Kurt finally said, smiling at Blaine.

"Oh, that's alright Kurt, I've got it, my dad came to help me out." Blaine nodded behind him to his father. Kurt glanced quickly at Mr. Anderson.

"Are you sure? I could just-"

"Uh, it's fine Kurt." Blaine said, smiling tightly. Kurt stared at Blaine for a moment and Blaine averted his eyes. Oh god, what a jerk he felt like.

"Well ok Blaine, I'll see you soon, it was nice seeing you again Mr. Anderson." Kurt's smile was forced this time, his thoughts obviously still on Blaine. Richard stuck his hand out for Kurt to shake.

"Call me Richard." he said politely, "You must be Blaine's friend." Kurt looked surprised for a moment and he looked at Blaine again.

"Yeah, we're friends." Blaine said quickly, swallowing a desperate explanation to Kurt as he saw his face fall with hurt.

"Y-yes, I'll just—I'll just head out, I think Rachel wanted me to call her." Kurt said to Blaine before hurriedly walking away. There had to be some way he could get this under control, Blaine thought. He had to stop hurting Kurt, acting strange, he needed to get back on track, he'd lived the double life before, he could do it again Blaine stared at Kurt's retreating form, wanting nothing more than to just run after him and apologize a hundred times.. Instead he found himself being pulled roughly by the arm back into his room. His dad flung him across the room angrily and Blaine's already bruised back exploded in pain as it hit the sharp edges of the windowsill.

"You little shit, I told you to stay away from that fag!" his father hissed.

"Fuck…" Blaine gasped as he tried to stand back up, "…dad, Kurt…I didn't ask him to come help me. I haven't even talked to him since the family night, I swear!"

"Shut up!"

"Dad-!" before Blaine could even see it coming his father whirled around and struck him across the face. The very force of the blow threw Blaine to the floor. Blaine didn't even try to get up, and he stayed on his hands and knees, gasping to get his breath back. His dad wearily walked over to his desk chair and sat down. There was a tense quiet in the room for several moments. When Richard spoke again, it was calm and dangerous.

"I told you to stay away from that fag, I told you to shut up, what is with you and your disability to follow _simple_ _directions_?" Blaine was silent and Richard turned to glare at him, "Well?"

"Sorry, I thought you told me to shut up." Blaine said.

"Finish packing." Richard said, "I'm bringing the car around." he kicked Blaine in the gut before leaving to get the car.


	4. Chapter 4

**(A/N: Hi! Sorry for extreme lateness...Thank you however, for reviews, alerts, favorites and the like. It is all very, very, much appreciated. This is a rather short update, but I plan to update next time (whenever that may be) with a longer chapter? Hopefully? I'm so ready for glee on Tuesday! I can't wait for some more Blaine! Speaking of glee, I think they deserved a lot more recognition at the golden globes...JUST SAYIN.)**

"Flowers? Really, Blaine?" Kurt glared at his boyfriend as he approached him in the Dalton parking lot after school, carrying a small bouquet of roses. Blaine sighed, his arm falling.

"Look Kurt-" he ran his free hand through his hair tiredly.

"Is this your 'oh-sorry-I-introduced-you-to-my-dad-as-a-friend' conciliatory gift?" Kurt folded his arms across his chest, the anger and hurt from yesterday still evident in his eyes.

"Kurt, it wasn't the right moment." Blaine tried to explain. _There's never going to be a right moment_.

"Blaine, how is that difficult to just say 'hey, this is Kurt, my _boyfriend_.'?" he was tapping his foot now, and Blaine knew how hurt he was, despite the haughty diva form he was giving off. Blaine looked down at his shoes.

"It's not as easy with my dad as it is with yours." he finally said. As he looked at his own shoes, he saw Kurt's, tapping irritably and Blaine drew a long breath, knowing he had to make it clearer, "You know, the gay thing." he said imploringly. Kurt's foot stopped tapping.

"So what Blaine, are you saying your Dad doesn't even know you're gay?" Kurt asked, his arms slowly unfolded and Blaine wanted nothing more than for Kurt to wrap him in those arms, and hug him tightly.

"My dad _knows_." Blaine rushed to say, chuckling lightly. Oh god, how he wished sometimes that he'd just never come out to his Dad, that he just hid it. His life would have been so goddamn easier.

"But he doesn't accept it?" Kurt asked quietly. Blaine felt a soft touch on his shoulder and for a minute, he just wanted to say yes. He wanted to say yes, my dad hates me, he hates that I'm gay, he doesn't accept me and he never will, he's repulsed by me, his own son fucking disgusts him.

But he couldn't do that to Kurt. He was Kurt's boyfriend, the one who never wanted him to get hurt, the one who was so confident and, as Kurt had constantly called him despite his protests, "perfect". How could he take away Kurt's perfect boyfriend and give him this pathetic gay kid who's own Dad hated his guts?

Blaine straightened up and gave Kurt a reassuring smile.

"It's not that either Kurt." he shook his head easily, trying to reinforce his confidence, "It's just that it's still a little new to him. I love my Dad, and he really loves me," Blaine's heart clenched painfully, as though it knew how outlandish the lie was, "It's just that, my being gay came as a surprise to him, it was a big shock." Blaine shrugged.

"You mean-" Kurt began, but Blaine held up a gentle hand to let him finish.

"He's _fine_ with it," he assured Kurt, smiling for good measure, "but I can tell it overwhelms him a sometimes, just a little. I just don't want to throw anything at him too fast. You know, things like-"

"A boyfriend." Kurt finished, nodding his understanding. Blaine nodded back. How he wished that was the only problem his dad had. He reached forward and took Kurt's hand in his.

"I'm so sorry about how I was to you yesterday." he said, "I just kind of panicked, I didn't want to put my Dad through too much."

"Blaine, it's alright, you don't need to apologize." Kurt said and the guilty look on his face killed Blaine, "I get it now. Whenever you're ready—or whenever he's ready—just whenever. I'm so sorry, I was being selfish. And I guess I'm also sorry for…you know," he blushed, "giving you the silent treatment all day." Blaine smiled, relief flooding through him.

"It was the most torturous day of my life." he moaned dramatically. Kurt's blush deepened and Blaine took a moment to admire him. He loved how, even though they were dating now, he could still make Kurt blush. Kurt held his hand out towards the flowers that he had previously rejected.

"Give them here," he said, "They're beautiful." he smelled the roses briefly and leaned forward to kiss Blaine. Blaine couldn't help the small moan of relief and happiness as Kurt pressed his lips to his. Kurt was his anchor now, he kept him sane. When he was with Kurt, sometimes he could even melt into the happy sort of innocent and naïve, untouched world that Kurt lived in and he could forget his own. He'd never needed Kurt so much, felt him so deeply…and yet, at the same time, Kurt was the worst thing for him. Every time he was with Kurt, every time he kissed him, touched him – he felt like he could be paying for it later, that his father could find out. It put him on edge and calmed him all at once.

Now was a calmer moment though, a peaceful one.

"I'm glad you like the flowers, babe." Blaine said quietly and Kurt could see the peace and love in his eyes, that somehow seemed so intense – he saw the gratitude. But what Blaine was thanking him for, he didn't know. But the moment was there and Kurt gently brushed his fingers over Blaine's cheek and he gently interlocked his other hand with Blaine's.

"Honey, are you ok?" Kurt asked quietly after a little while. Blaine blinked and Kurt could see the moment had vanished and his hand slowly fell back to his side. Blaine smiled at him.

"I'm fine, only a little anxious about tonight and what on earth I'll wear."

"Wear to what—oh my god!" Kurt squeaked, his hands flying up to cover his mouth, rose petals bursting into the air. "You're coming to dinner tonight! I completely forgot what with the whole silent treatment and—oh my god Blaine! I've got to get home and start cooking!"

"Kurt, don't stress yourself and _don't_ rush on the drive home, I don't even want to have to worry about you having a wreck." Blaine said firmly, straightening Kurt's jacket as he did so.

"Blaine I've got to go, I promise I won't rush…too much." as Blaine's reproving look he stubbornly added, "Well the appetizer quiche isn't going to put itself in the oven!" he gave his boyfriend a quick peck on the cheek before hurrying into his car, "And don't forget! 6:30 sharp Blaine!" he yelled just before shutting his door. Blaine laughed and waved Kurt out of the parking lot before heading towards his own car.

* * *

><p>"Really Dad, <em>that<em>'s what you're wearing?" Kurt sighed as his dad came downstairs into the kitchen. He was wearing a cotton plaid shirt and jeans. Burt looked down at the aforementioned outfit his son had just criticized.

"What's wrong with it?"

"Dad, Blaine's coming to dinner tonight." Kurt stressed the point, as though he hadn't been a shouting sea captain as soon as he got home, trying to get everything in order for the night's dinner. Next to him, Carole was stirring some sort of sauce in a pan while Kurt was rolling out dough for something on the counter.

"Yeah, so?" Burt still didn't see the problem.

"Dad, he's-"

"Kurt, he's your boyfriend, not the King of the Tibet. I highly doubt the kid'll care what I'm wearing."

"Honey, at least put on a nice polo shirt, alright?" Carole said. Burt gave her a betrayed look.

"This shirt is more comfortable than any of my polos." Burt reasoned, moving to the other side of the kitchen in search of some crackers.

"Dad, you're seriously going to snack right now? I'm making dinner!" Kurt snapped, grabbing the box of crackers out of Burt's hands and sticking them back in the cupboard. A stomping sound soon brought Finn into the kitchen as well, wearing a white t-shirt and sweatpants.

"Hey, where are the chips?"

"Finn, you can't wear that!" Kurt shrieked.

"You just told me to change!"

"Into something _nicer_ than your letterman jacket and jeans, not something worse!" Kurt snapped. Finn squeezed his way through the limited room in the kitchen to the pantry where he dug out a bag of chips.

"What are you talking about? This is my nicest t-shirt!"

"You're _eating_? Does no one understand that Carole and I are preparing an amazing dinner for this evening?" Kurt yelled.

"Jesus, calm down!" Burt and Finn threw their hands up in what could have been defense or surrender.

"Everyone simmer down," Carole ordered over her shoulder as she added spices to the sauce, "Finn, put down the chips, we're eating dinner soon, and go put on some jeans at least, Burt go put on your polo, Kurt get back to the dough, alright. Everyone, one, two, three, go-!" Carole waved her hands and shooed out the two underdressed men before returning to her sauce.


	5. Chapter 5

**(A/N: LONG time, no see. To anyone, any single follower, reader, or reviewer etc, thanks for sticking about, or checking this out for the first time, really is much, much, muchly appreciated.)**

Burt looked at himself in the mirror and straightened the collar of his polo shirt, the same one he'd worn to impress a room full of Ohio's elite parents and now the same one he was wearing to impress a 17 year old kid. He shook his head at the notion, the things he did for Kurt. He shook his head again. This kid, Blaine, wasn't even going to care what he was wearing, because no matter what he pulled out of his closet, it wasn't going to be even half as nice or as expensive as whatever the kid was used to. He was a mechanic, and he knew that wasn't the best paying or most impressive job in the world, and maybe he couldn't figure out a sure way to fix the economy, but he could fix a blown tire in the middle of nowhere, and that was enough for him.

Now when he'd met him, he'd liked Blaine, a lot! But the thought that he had to try to impress this kid was unsettling to him, and the fact that Kurt had to constantly put on his best was even more unsettling. If this Blaine kid was his Kurt's boyfriend, than Kurt shouldn't need to be anything less than he was, he shouldn't need to always try to impress him. Blaine was a rich kid, he went to Dalton, the tuition probably didn't even put a dent in his family's income. Sometimes Burt wondered what exactly Blaine was doing with a kid like his Kurt. He wasn't one to judge a book by its cover or anything, but Burt didn't associate with a lot of high end people. He liked his friends at the car shop, he liked Carole's nurse friends and some of the parents back from McKinley. How was he supposed to know the way rich people thought? How was he supposed to know how to act around them, or how they acted around other people? He just didn't want his son to get hurt he guessed.

"Dad! Hurry up! Blaine is going to be here any minute!" Burt turned from the mirror at his son's voice. He rolled his eyes at his reflection and hurried downstairs.

"You told the kid 6:30 right?" he asked, glancing at his wristwatch, it read 6:40.

"Yeah, but you know traffic is a little bad this time of day, and Blaine lives pretty far away." Kurt bit his nail nervously glancing at the kitchen clock. All of the food was cooked now and waiting in the kitchen to be placed in the dining room when Blaine arrived. Burt looked towards the table, it looked like a goddamn feast! Here they were putting on their best and the kid couldn't even bother to arrive on time! Burt stopped himself short there though, it was pretty bad traffic around now, and besides, 10 minutes wasn't so bad. There was no way he could know why Blaine was late and therefore he didn't see the need of getting all mad about it now. Besides, if he got mad now, it would do absolutely no good for Kurt.

* * *

><p>Blaine winced as he drove his car, the vehicle making a sharp turn. His back still hurt from when his father had thrown him into the corner of his desk and there was a deep purple there. He loosened the tie on his warbler's uniform and let out a steam of breath. Lying to Kurt had been easier than he thought. Of course he felt terrible about it, but the better part of him was glad he could pull it off. He was protecting Kurt from things that he <em>really<em> didn't need to know, things that he was _better off_ not knowing. Lying to Kurt was something he simply had to do. It was the _good _ thing to do.

Blaine was just flipping through radio channels when his phone starting ringing. He reached into the back seat where his backpack was, keeping one hand steady on the wheel and his eyes on the road. He fished blindly through his backpack until he felt his phone. He quickly sandwiched the phone between his ear and shoulder as he made another turn.

"Hello?"

"I need you to pick up my dry-cleaning." his father's voice came through the other end. Blaine instantly felt an icy shiver run through his body at the voice. He fought the oncoming panic.

"Don't you have assistants for that sort of thing?" he asked. He could almost see the irritated look on his father's face.

"Well I'm not asking them right now, am I Blaine." his father spat and Blaine half expected spit to come flying through his phone. Blaine sighed and looked at his watch, it was 5:15 and he was still about 20 minutes from home. He had wanted to go home, shower and change before heading to Kurt's, which was at least a half hour drive. Blaine bit his lip, there was no way he could be late to Kurt's, it was the first time he'd been invited to the house!

"Uh…when do you need it?" he asked. He heard a frustrated growl from the other end and he grimaced.

"What do you mean 'when do I need it'?!" his father yelled, "I need it fucking now!"

"R-right." Blaine stuttered, gripping the steering wheel harder, "I'll bring it right home." he switched on his turn signal, he'd need to loop back around from where he'd just come about 15 minutes.

* * *

><p>Burt was getting impatient now. It was 7:00, NO KID. Where the hell was he? Didn't he know this was his <em>son's <em>feelings he was messing with? His son's dinner he was ruining? Burt looked over into the living room, where the front door was. Kurt was watching some show on TV, pretending like he wasn't glancing out the window at the driveway every 15 seconds. Burt couldn't stand how absolutely miserable he looked. He sighed and walked over to his son, sinking into the seat on the couch next to him.

"Hey kiddo."

"Hey Dad." Kurt didn't look at him, his eyes too busy flitting between the window, the door, the TV and then down to his phone. Burt glanced out the window too, praying he'd see Blaine's car pull into the drive. No such luck. Burt sighed heavily and shook his head. He breathed deeply for a moment before looking for the words he needed.

"Listen Kurt, I think-"

"Um Dad, sorry, I'll be right back, I'm going to uh—call Blaine." Kurt interrupted him abruptly and stood up to go into the other room to make the call. Burt didn't stop him. He walked into the dining room where Carole was surveying the food which was beginning to grow cold, trying to decide what to do with it since it was ready well before its consumers.

"Hey hon, any sign of him yet?" Carole asked, seeing him walk in. Burt shook his head in the negative.

"Uh….no actually, still no." he scratched the back of his head, staring at all the food, a hint of anger reaching him, "Kurt went to go call him."

"It's probably just bad traffic." Carole reasoned, finally deciding on taking some of the more fine dishes back to the kitchen to put in the fridge. Burt followed her.

"He could've called." he muttered.

"Maybe he doesn't use his phone in the car, wouldn't be the worst thing." Carole said. Burt sighed, he loved Carole, he loved how she had that way of always looking for the good in people, a trait he wished would slowly rub off on him. But couldn't she see that this kid was simply blowing Kurt off? Like this had all been some sort of joke from the get-go? Let's see how far the Hummel-Hudson's will go to impress me, and then let's make them feel like fucking idiots? Let's make Kurt feel like an idiot?

"Or maybe he's just messing with my kid for the fun of it." Burt said out loud.

"Burt, that's not true." Carole said sternly, "We know Kurt, _you_ know Kurt. If Kurt trusts Blaine, if he likes Blaine, then we should trust him too. We should trust Kurt's judgment. He's a good kid, he's sees the good in people."

"Kurt's got good judgment Carole, but that doesn't mean he can't be played! That doesn't mean people can't take the good in Kurt and twist it around and take advantage of him!"

"Honey-"

The door bell rang. Burt and Carole whipped around to stare at the door. Burt's eyes flickered briefly to the clock on the dining room wall. 7:12. The goddamn nerve. He started storming towards the door, having it set in his head to give this kid a goddamn piece of his mind, but Kurt was soon in front of him, dashing towards the door and smoothing his hair simultaneously.

"Blaine!" Kurt swung the door open.

"Ku-" Before he could finish, Burt watched Kurt fly into Blaine's arms, hugging him tightly.

"I was so worried, I thought you'd crashed or something!"

"I-it was traffic Kurt, I'm sorry I didn't call, my phone was in the trunk with my backpack." Blaine said in a rush, "God Kurt, I am _so_ sorry." Kurt pulled back.

"You're still in your Warbler's uniform." he murmured as he looked him over.

"I couldn't get home to change." Blaine didn't offer any further explanation, "Kurt, I'm so sorry, I really—I just—Kurt, I'm _sorry_."

"Blaine really, it's fine." Kurt shushed him, "We both know I love the blazer on you anyway." he smiled and Blaine weakly smiled back. Kurt slid his hand into one of Blaine's and led him further into the house, "Mom! Dad!" Carole and Burt came over, Burt had his arms crossed and he sent Blaine a glare. Blaine was too busy looking at his shoes to notice. The goddamn nerve.

"Blaine, this is my step-mom, Carole." Kurt introduced, "Carole, this is Blaine…my boyfriend." he blushed but smiled at the label. Blaine finally looked up and offered his hand to Carole.

"It's nice to meet you Mrs. Hummel." he said. She ignored his hand and gave him a quick hug.

"It is certainly a pleasure to meet you Blaine, you're very handsome." she smiled. Blaine smiled bashfully.

"Thanks." he chuckled. His gaze turned to Burt and upon noticing the glare and the intimidating stance, his smile disappeared.

"Mr. Hummel." he said, "It's good to see you again." he offered his hand. Burt simply stared at it before turning around and walking back into the dining room. Blaine's hand slowly floated back down to his side, he felt like he'd been punched in the gut.

"Boys, I'm just going to go heat up a few things. You can sit on the couch or watch TV, ok?" Carole waited until the two slightly stunned boys nodded and made their way to the couch before she stormed into the kitchen. She found Burt there, standing at the counter, eating chips.

"Burt! What is your problem!" she hissed at him, quietly enough so that the two boys wouldn't hear, but loud enough to startle him. He jumped and had the decency to look surprised before his face contorted in anger again.

"My problem? Carole, that kid just put Kurt through something I'm sure he'd equate to torture! Alright? I mean, he's sitting there waiting for 45 minutes for this guy to show up and when he does, he didn't even bother to change out of his school uniform!"

Carole snatched the bag of chips out of his hand, throwing them back on top of the refrigerator, "Did you not hear Blaine say that traffic was bad?"

"Oh, you know what? Bull. Shit." Burt guffawed, "You know what? Traffic my butt." he mumbled reaching for the chips again only to have Carole slap his hand away.

"So maybe it wasn't traffic, maybe he fell asleep and forgot, does it really matter, honey? Blaine was _sincerely _apologetic about being late. He already feels terrible about being late and coming in his uniform, do you really need to act this way towards him? What if it was Kurt's first dinner with Blaine's dad and Kurt was treated like this?" Carole's reprimand was firm and Burt looked down, feeling instantly bad.

"You're right, Carole." he muttered, "I'll ease up."

"Thank you," Carole kissed him on the cheek, "I'm sure Kurt and Blaine will both appreciate it a lot. Now go be nice while I hurry dinner." she gave him a light shove towards the living room where Blaine and Kurt were sitting on the couch, murmuring to each other in rapid undertones.

As soon as Burt's footsteps could be heard coming towards the room, the whispering came to abrupt stop and Kurt turned sharply in his seat to glare at his dad. Burt rubbed the back of his neck uneasily and looked to Blaine, hoping the kid wasn't just as mad. However Blaine was staring imploringly at Kurt, his hand clutched around Kurt's wrist in a desperate attempt to keep him from doing whatever he was about to do.

Kurt only grabbed Blaine's shoulder and said in a hushed tone, "No Blaine, I don't care, you didn't do anything wrong, he can't treat you like this."

"Kurt _please_," Blaine begged, "don't say anything, it's fine." his voice was even softer, and even if Burt hadn't been able to make out the words, he could definitely recognize the tone of panic. He suddenly felt ten times worse. Kurt bristled at Blaine's plea.

"It most certainly is _not _fine, Blaine."

"Kurt, it-"

Burt spoke up, finally coming fully into the room, "No Blaine, Kurt's right, it's not fine. I'm sorry about the way I treated you just now. You were late and I thought you were standing my kid up. For laughs." Blaine seemed absolutely stunned for a moment, and his mouth tried a few times first to form words.

"Mr. Hummel, I would nev-"

"Kid don't worry, it's all been a big misunderstanding on my part." Burt said, cutting past what he was sure would've been another attempt at an apology, "Just try not to be an hour late next time."

"Of course, sir." Blaine's reply was quick.

"It's not just Kurt you're screwing over when you're late to family dinners. Carol has to make the food, I have to change out of sweatpants, Finn has to resist the urge to snack and Kurt has to go through an extra two hours of 'what-to-wear' anxiety and hair styling."

"Dad!" Kurt shrieked, furious. Blaine couldn't stop the small grin when he realized Burt was really just a caring father and he appreciated the joke. He subtly patted Kurt's hand next to his, to let him know not to be embarrassed. He would've spent just as much time on his outfit and hair had his father not called.

"I had no idea I was such an event Mr. Hummel." Blaine smiled subtly, his whole body taking a sigh of relief.

"Well you are kid, and don't you forget it." Burt said, "Now c'mon, that five star dinner Carol made is just waiting to be eaten."

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><p><strong>(AN: Thanks so much for reading, hope you enjoyed!)**


	6. Chapter 6

**(A/N: Hello...long time no update. Thank you to those who did review last time or followed! I can't believe glee is going on a three week hiatus, it's especially annoying because I never know about them until the promo before the last episode and I'm always like "WHAT? 3 WEEKS?!" Oh well, it will all be worth it for Come What May...)**

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><p>Blaine found himself grinning ear to ear as he drove home. Maroon 5 was blasting from his car speakers and he had just had one of the best nights of his life at Kurt's house. Dinner had been delicious, but even if the food had sucked, Blaine wouldn't have minded at all. Kurt's dad was amazing, and his stepmom too. They were both so kind and welcoming, Burt a little more gruff than Carole, but still, he had a subtle caring nature about him that Blaine had always wished his own father could have possessed. Kurt's stepbrother, Finn, was a cool guy too, protective of Kurt, but like the rest of his family, a genuinely nice person. The laughs came easy and they never made Blaine feel awkward or out of place. While Burt did occasionally glare at him or offer suspicious sounding comments, Blaine found that his only encouraged him further of what a great man Burt was, to be so protective and loving of his <em>very<em> gay son.

As Blaine turned left onto his street, his smile slowly started to fade and as the radio station crackled into a commercial, he clicked it off. He numbly felt his foot ease slightly from the gas pedal and his car slowed down. His hands clenched on the steering wheel tempted to jerk into a U-turn and drive straight back to Kurt's, or even to Dalton. He hated his home, because it had never been one. Dalton was his home, and he would give anything to be able to drive their now, go to his dorm and spend the night telling Wes and David all about Kurt and his amazing family. Thinking about his warm and safe dorm back at Dalton, lulled Blaine into a wishful, calmed state and he hardly noticed where he was driving until he heard the car engine turn off. He was sitting in his driveway now, and he had the strange feeling as though he'd been sitting there a while. He took a deep breath, a slight tremor rippling through him as he let it out. His legs felt like they were made of lead and it took several more breaths to move them. When he finally got out of his car, he noticed that there was another car parked in front of his. It wasn't his father's or a company car and Blaine momentarily forgot his anxiety as he tried to think of who in the world could be visiting his father at this time of night. He eventually just shrugged and went to the trunk of his own car to retrieve the backpack he'd never gotten to take home. He grabbed a couple of his textbooks as well before hurrying to the door and letting himself in.

"Blaine, where have you been?" Richard's voice came from the living room, surprisingly calm.

Blaine turned to speak, "I-" he stopped short, noticing another man there with his father, sitting on the couch, "—who's this?" alarmed, his usually perfect etiquette was forgotten. His father's calm gaze morphed into a glare and he stood up. Blaine took a subconscious step back as he noticed his father's hand clench at his side.

"This is Dr. Murrow, he's a therapist specializing in cases like yours." Richard said, his voice laced with annoyance. He turned to the man, "I apologize Dr. Murrow for my son's _appalling_ manners. I had no idea that his sickness would spread to even the simplest branches of human etiquette."

"C-cases like mine?" Blaine stuttered, his stomach suddenly turning painfully. His father cast him another irritated look.

"Do I have to spell it out for you?" he hissed through clenched teeth. Blaine swallowed nervously and quickly looked away. No, he didn't need it spelled out for him.

"It's quite alright, Richard." Dr. Murrow said, standing up to meet the other occupants of the room. Blaine surveyed the man. He was tall, almost as tall as his father. He was perhaps mid-thirties, with grey eyes and light blonde hair. He was lanky and his hands looked oddly big compared to the rest of his body. The man looked at Blaine in appraisal, his eyes starting at his feet, going up until they met his eyes. Blaine looked away quickly. There was something extremely off about this man.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Blaine." he said politely.

"You as well…sir." Blaine murmured, eyes still downcast. While studying the rug at his feet, his missed the greeting hand the doctor had held out for him.

"For God's sake Blaine, can't you manage to keep your head upright?!" he felt a rough hand beneath his chin, forcing his head up straight to face Dr. Murrow. He flinched as his father released him.

"I'm sorry, sir." he said, trying to speak clearly. It was a struggle to keep his gaze steadily on the men around him and not on the expensive rug beneath their feet. He finally reached forward and shook the doctor's hand.

"Why don't you show me to your room." Dr. Murrow said, smiling down at Blaine.

"Wha-" Blaine wanted to ask what for, but his father's glare shut him up, "Of course, sir." he said instead, leading the way upstairs to his bedroom.

He could hear the man's soft footsteps behind him, could see him looking around their upstairs corridor with curiosity, inspecting the austere family photographs and old portraits of his mother, out of the corner of his eye. He quietly cleared his throat when they reached his room at the end of the hallway. He opened the door and gestured inside once the man was looking at him again.

"Ah, thank you, Blaine." the man nodded at him warmly before walking inside. Blaine didn't buy into the smiling expression. He'd met enough of his father's…friends, to know that warmth was a completely foreign entity to them. He followed Dr. Murrow in, quickly depositing his school things next to his desk by the wall.

"Not much of a decorator I see." Dr. Murrow observed, walking around Blaine's room, taking note of the empty walls and the gray bedding. Blaine's room hadn't always been so desolate, but the last time he had tried to personalize it, with a Vogue poster no less, his father had ripped it down, infuriated. It was one of the first times Blaine could remember being absolutely terrified of what his father would do to him.

"I just moved back, I was boarding at Dalton." Blaine said instead, "I haven't had the time to decorate yet."

"Understandable." Dr. Murrow nodded. He walked over to Blaine's desk and gestured towards the chair, "May I?" he asked.

"Of course." Blaine nodded, even though all he wanted was for him to leave. Dr. Murrow gestured to Blaine's bed and Blaine reluctantly crossed to the room to sit across from him, sitting on the edge of the bed. Blaine rubbed his hands on his knees nervously, the very presence of Dr. Murrow creeped him out.

"My…" he paused as he saw the doctor rifling through the top drawer in his desk. Blaine's suddenly speeding heart leapt into his throat as he saw Dr. Murrow's hands reach for the second drawer, where a box of photographs of him and Kurt were stored, he tried to stutter out a distraction, "My father says—he says that you specialize in cases like mine!" he doesn't mean for it to come out with such volume, but the doctor stops what he's doing and turns to face Blaine, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Yes…?" he says after a while, clearly having expected Blaine to add more to his exclamation.

"Well I…" Blaine tried not to stare at the second drawer of his desk, "I…" his eyes flickered back to the doctor who had crossed his arms and was now studying Blaine very seriously. Blaine closed his eyes, trying to make the panic ebb away, to make his heart slow down. Why was he panicking in the first place? This wasn't his father, he was just…a doctor, specializing…in cases like his, "He meant gay cases. Didn't he?" Blaine was finally able to say, opening his eyes to stare directly at the doctor, who by now had forgotten all about Blaine's second drawer in his desk.

"I do help those struggling with homosexuality, yes." Dr. Murrow nodded, leaning forward, "I understand that it is a troubling actualization to suffer."

"But I'm not struggling." Blaine blurted out and at the Doctor's patronizingly, sympathetic expression, he felt his old anger and confidence rising in him as his panic seemed to fade instantly, "I know that I'm gay. I know for sure that I'm gay, have been and always will be. What's more is that I'm fine with it. I'm not _struggling_ with anything." Blaine hissed. It was a point that he seemed to always be making, though it never stuck with those he had to make it to.

"Many in your situation would want to believe such a thing." Blaine jumped as he felt the doctor's hand land on his knee. Just as quickly as it has come, his anger and confidence fled and he was left with a desperately beating, scared heart.

"W-what are you doing?" Blaine asked quietly as the hand began to rub circles on his knee. He yelped as Dr, Murrow's hand suddenly moved much further up his leg, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" he cried as he scrambled backwards on his bed, his back hitting the headboard hard in his hurry to get away.

"Blaine you need to calm down." Murrow's voice came out calm but firm and stood immediately, advancing on Blaine with a cross expression on his face, "If you really are as gay as you say you are, you should be fine with me touching you. I am a male, am I not?" Blaine's eyes widened in horror and before he could stop himself, he was yelling at the man.

"Fuck you!" he heard himself as though through a tunnel, "Don't you fucking touch me, you fucking creep!" he tried to get up so he could leave the room, but Murrow had anticipated this and easily pinned him back down, one hand pressed his chest down with bruising force while the other held his wrist together above his head with equally strong pressure. Blaine instantly struggled, yelling at him to get off of him.

"I'm not releasing you until you _calm down_, Blaine!" Dr. Murrow said, his tone a strained calm. Blaine felt the panic rising in his chest and he tried to listen to the doctor's words, but all he could think was that he wanted free _now_.

"Please…" he tried begging, the word falling quietly from his lips as tried his hardest to stop struggling. The hand on his chest felt so heavy, as though his lungs were being crushed beneath it.

" Are you calm, Blaine?"

He shut his eyes desperately, willing himself to calm down, repeating over and over again in his head to just_ calm down_. After a moment he nodded shakily.

"I'm calm." he said earnestly, even though he was everything but. He felt the pressure on his chest and wrists fade away and he sprung from the bed as fast as he could, leaping to the other side, making sure that the bed was no between himself and Dr. Murrow. Dr. Murrow frowned.

"I thought you said you were calm Blaine." he said admonishingly. Blaine grabbed the closest bulky item that he could reach, which happened to be his thick History of the America's textbook.

"I…" his throat was so dry, "I think you should leave."

"Blaine-" the doctor took a step towards Blaine and Blaine panicked, flinched backwards as he chucked his book at the man.

"Get out!" he shouted, wildly grabbing for his other textbook, which was IB Pre-calculus. They were interrupted by the door banging open and Blaine froze at the sight of his father in the doorway.

"What the hell is going on in here?!" he snapped, eyes locking on the book in Blaine's hand, which he was clearly planning on throwing, "Blaine, put the damn book down!" Immediately Blaine dropped the volume, taking several steps backwards until his back hit the wall.

"It seems I was wrong about your son Mr. Anderson." Dr. Murrow was the first to venture into the silence, "I had only planned on seeing him once a month. I think weekly appointments will be necessary."

"I will." Richard said, his voice tight as his eyes remained locked on his son, "I'll see you out." they left then and Blaine collapsed against the wall he'd been pressed to. This couldn't be happening. His father couldn't be this twisted, he must not know what was going on…that had to be it. Blaine would tell him. He would—

"Your appointments will be every Monday after school."

Blaine looked up startled at his father's presence. He quickly stood up, rushing towards his father, "Dad, you c-can't make me go!" he said desperately, "He—he tried to—to _touch_ me-"

"Every Monday after school, Blaine." his father said dismissively, "This isn't up for debate." he shut the door before Blaine could respond, leaving Blaine alone, not able to stop the shaking or the spinning as he numbly reached for the second drawer in his desk.

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><p><strong>(AN: Thanks for reading!) **


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